21. Tara

The cows were gone to their new home, leaving Tara feeling somewhat sad but ultimately relieved.

The constant looming threat of veterinary bills that she wouldn’t be able to afford was a worrisome weight to carry. It was still a possibility – an inevitability, really, with the dozens of animals that remained – but offloading her hungriest animals took some of the pressure off. Without the cost of feeding the two cows, she might be able to get ahead financially, albeit slowly.

The sheep were next. They were much less trouble than the cows, and they kept the grass under control, but she had too many. If she could sell off about half of her motley herd, the land would be able to support them without her needing to buy feed.

After making sure that all of the animals had water, she stopped by the aviary to check on Lucy. She was surprised to see Cody inside, feeding her fresh papaya. The wound that the macaw had given him was still healing; he had a scab and an ugly bruise on his forearm.

“I see you two have made up,” Tara said softly as she let herself into the aviary.

“Mama!” Lucy greeted her, an echo of Cody’s early childhood that always softened her heart.

“She didn’t mean to hurt me,” he said. “She was just stressed.”

Tara patted his shoulder, then reached up to scratch Lucy’s beak.

She wanted to talk to him about his reaction to seeing her and Liam together, but she had tried to bring it up multiple times since then. Each time, he had shut down and made an excuse for why he needed to be someplace else.

She wanted to know if Liam’s hunch about Cody’s feelings for Maddie was accurate, but any mention of that was almost certain to cause him to shut down.

She wanted to poke and prod and nettle him into talking to her, but she knew that putting that sort of pressure on him would be the absolute worst thing that she could do. Instead of getting him to open up, it would only do the opposite.

So she just stood there next to him, watching Lucy eat papaya.

With Ricky still missing, she knew that the remaining macaw appreciated their company. Macaws were social birds, and she worried for Lucy’s health if Ricky disappeared for good. She would need to find her a companion, but she certainly didn’t want to start this decades-long cycle all over again.

Maybe a rescue macaw of a similar age… but she had no idea what it would be like to bring in a new bird or help them get used to each other.

It was one more headache that she simply didn’t have the time or energy for. But if Ricky never came home, she wasn’t sure she would have much choice. She couldn’t just leave Lucy out here alone; it would break her heart. And she didn’t have the time or the energy to fulfill the macaw’s social needs on her own, either.

“I’m sorry for being such a baby about you and Liam,” Cody said after a while.

Tara kept her eyes on the bird, refusing to betray her surprise. “That’s okay. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about it first.”

“It’s not like you need my permission.”

“No… but maybe your blessing?”

He wrinkled his nose. “I don’t think I’m there yet. But that’s my problem, not yours. I’m sorry for putting that on you. You deserve to be happy.”

Tara smiled up at her son.

“What?” he asked with a frown.

“You’re extraordinary. I love you, and I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and slouched, embarrassed. “I love you too.”

A sudden, distant shriek grabbed Tara’s attention. She reached out and grabbed Cody’s arm.

“What?”

“Did you hear that?” she asked.

“No. Hear what?”

Lucy had heard. She bobbed her head and fluffed her feathers, moving back and forth along her favorite branch.

Tara let herself out of the aviary. Cody followed and closed the door carefully behind them.

“I think I heard Ricky,” she said.

They stood shoulder to shoulder, scanning the trees.

She tried not to get her hopes up too much. There were other macaws in the neighborhood – wild or free ranging, she wasn’t sure. But she heard them from time to time, and every now and then she glimpsed the primary colors of two scarlet macaws high up in the trees.

Today, though, she saw no flash of red in the foliage.

But she didn’t spy any emerald among the green, either.

Mom,she thought, why did you have to pick a bird that’s so hard to spot?

She supposed she had been trying to bring some green into their gray New England winters, some life and vibrancy. Well, she had certainly done that.

The butterfly effect of those birds had given Tara her entire life: the land, the animals, her calling. She wouldn’t even have her three children if her mother hadn’t decided to move to Hawai’i all those years ago.

“There he is!” Cody pointed at a high branch of an albizia tree.

It took a solid minute for Tara to spot him, even with Cody’s help.

“Ricky!” she called out when she finally sighted him. “Ricky, come home!”

Behind them, Lucy shrieked. Ricky called back to her from the treetops.

“He must be so hungry,” she murmured.

Cody loped off and returned a minute later with a big bag of brazil nuts, Ricky’s favorite. He shook them around in the plastic bag, creating a rattling racket.

Ricky shrieked again and flapped his wings, working his way down to the nearest branch. He was scared of heights – the sad reality of a domesticated macaw.

Clumsy and frightened, he slowly made his way down out of the tree. Finally, in a burst of flight, he soared over their heads and landed on top of the aviary.

Tara was so happy she could cry.

She was also terrified that he would get spooked and fly off again.

“Hey Ricky,” she said softly, walking to the aviary door. “You hungry?”

She opened the door and Cody followed her in, opening the bag of brazil nuts. Lucy, who would normally have begged for a treat, was climbing up the inside of the aviary wall to get closer to her mate. He edged his way along the roof and finally down the side of the aviary, where Tara was waiting for him.

“Step up?” she said, holding out her arm.

With one black claw and then another, Ricky stepped onto her arm.

Tara brought her arm to her chest and Ricky cuddled into her, exhausted. She carried him into the aviary and shut the door behind them. After petting him for a moment, she transferred him to a nearby branch so that he could eat.

Lucy made a fuss over him while he feasted on brazil nuts and papaya.

Tara let out a sigh of relief and leaned into Cody, resting her head on his shoulder.

“One less thing to worry about,” he said.

“Thank goodness for that.”